


good form

by Anonymous



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Girl Patrick, Patrick is bi, and competitive as shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 00:54:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17571212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “Best head of your life?”“Yes, he was better than you, you competitive motherfucker.” Hayds says it like it’s a joke, like it’s funny, like it’s not the single most devastating thing a girl could say to Pat.“Ahockey brogave you the best head of your goddamn life? Am I in the fucking Upside Down?”“Believe it, baby. Jonathan Toews: hockey bro and magical pussy-eating wizard.”





	good form

Pat gets a lot of shit in the locker room for being a little slutty.

“A _lot_ slutty,” her teammates would correct.

But, really, she has standards. Or, like, _rules_.

Rule #1: no opponents. She doesn’t care how hot Parayko from Minnesota is, she can’t fuck a girl and then face her on the ice, it’s too weird.

Rule #2: no threesomes with chicks and their boyfriend. She’s bi, she’s not a fucking sex toy for boring straight dudes who convince their girlfriends they want to ‘mix things up.’

Rule #3: no one from the men’s team. She played with the boys her whole life, she knows how they are, and she’s not going to get into bed with one of those overly confident hockey bros who will put in 10 seconds of foreplay to fuck her for 60 seconds, max, and then brag about ‘screwing her brains out’ to his entire team the next day.

Her rules have been in place since she was sixteen, and at twenty she can say with confidence that they’ve served her well.

“Pattycakes,” Hayds coos, sliding into the booth right next to Pat. On a normal night Pat would bitch about her using that ridiculous fucking nickname, but tonight she’s feeling good – they won last night, her fake ID worked on the bouncer, they scored a booth in the bar, and she’s halfway through her third vodka soda. She lets Hayds’ drunk ass cuddle right up to her side, her long blonde hair tickling Pat’s shoulders.

“I’m not ordering you another drink if the bartender cut you off,” Pat says.

“The bartender fucking loves me,” Hayds grumbles, only slightly slurring. “I didn’t come over here for a drink.”

“I’m not eating you out in the bathroom either, you’re too drunk to balance on one leg.”

There’s nothing in her rules about fucking teammates, because in general her teammates are fucking beauties who deserve to get their minds blown by her totally awesome mouth. Hayds herself has sworn up and down, multiple times, that Pat gives the best head of anyone she’s ever been with.

“I don’t need you to eat me out, I’ve already gone a couple rounds today,” Hayds says airily, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“Jesus, how have you already picked up? It’s only eight!”

“Afternoon delight, baby,” Hayds chirps. “He got me so good I had to skip lunch with Schmaltzy because I couldn’t move my legs.”

She sighs, all dreamy and dumb, and Pat has to laugh. “Dick so bomb?”

“Who knows? He didn’t even fuck me. Ate me out ‘til I came twice then jerked off on my stomach. Even cleaned up after himself. Swear to fucking god, Pat, best head of my life.”

Pat literally chokes on the sip she’s taking.

“ _Best_ head of your life?”

“Yes, he was better than you, you competitive motherfucker.” Hayds says it like it’s a joke, like it’s funny, like it’s not the single most devastating thing a girl could say to Pat.

“Are you in love with him or something? Is that why you thought it was so good? Because it’s not my fault you weren’t in love with me when I went down on you.”

“Jesus Christ, _no_. Probably won’t see him again, you know how it is. It was just a hookup. A really fucking good hookup, but a hookup nonetheless.”

Hayds doesn’t ever fuck the same guy twice, apparently not even if he gives the best head of her life.

“Well who is this fucking magical pussy-eating wizard? What’s his deal?”

“Don’t even bother, Pattycakes. He’s on the hockey team.”

This time Pat just chokes on the air.

“A _hockey bro_ gave you the best head of your goddamn life? Am I in the fucking Upside Down?”

“Believe it, baby. Jonathan Toews: hockey bro and magical pussy-eating wizard.”

That’s when Schmaltzy chooses to crash their conversation, derailing it into a debate on whether or not she’ll put Taylor Swift on the locker room hype playlist. The rest of the night is uneventful, though, and Pat tries to put her conversation with Hayds out of her head as much as possible.

She manages keep it together for exactly one week, convincing herself that Hayds was mistaken. Toews is the fucking captain of the men’s team, he’s already been drafted to the Hawks, there’s no way he also gives better head than her. Pat’s surprised Toews even goes down on girls, to be honest. Hayds was probably surprised, too, maybe that’s why she scored him so high. And it’s been a while since Pat hooked up with Hayds, so Hayds probably forgot just how good Pat was.

It’s almost completely out of her mind when she’s out with the girls again, at a clubby bar so they can dance. She’s at the bar, ordering another round of shots, when she feels someone at her elbow. Sometimes she just looks forward, pretends not to notice the guy (it’s always a guy) clearly trying to get her attention. She’s kind of looking to hook up tonight, though, so she turns.

She immediately wishes she hadn’t.

“ _Toews?_ ”

He looks a little startled at that, but he presses on. “Uh, yeah, hi. And you’re Patricia Kane, right?” She just stares at him, and he takes her stunned silence for a question because he continues with, “Uh we met last year? At that charity thing the winter sports teams hosted? And then again earlier this year at that hockey season kickoff event? And -”

“No, I know, I just –,“ she cuts him off, then pauses to try and force herself to gain some semblance of composure. “I was surprised to see you. How are you?”

“Oh, I’m good. I was actually hoping I could buy you a drink?”

Pat’s already had a few drinks, so there’s no forethought when she blurts out, “Jesus, are you trying to make your way through the whole women’s team?”

“Am I _what_?”

“I mean, didn’t you hook up with Hayds, like, last week?”

He seems appropriately embarrassed now. “Oh, uh, she told you about that?”

Pat snorts. “Like you didn’t tell your team about it.”

Toews looks thoroughly confused. “Um, no? Why would I tell them? It was just a casual hookup, it’s none of their business.”

Pat’s eyes narrow at him. There’s no way this isn’t an act. This fake nice-guy Canadian routine must work on all the girls – _look at the hockey superstar, still so sweet and humble._

She’s still staring him down when he says, “Um, so was that a no on the drink, or?”

Pat can’t deal with this any longer. “Fine, buy me the fucking drink.”

Toews doesn’t move, though. He stares right at Pat as he asks, “Do you have a problem with me or something?”

“Yes, I have _problem_ with you. My problem is that Hayds said you gave the best head of her life,” she practically spits out.

Pat has genuinely never in her life seen a human being go so red so fast. Toews’ eyes look like they’re bulging out from his head and his jaw is practically on the floor.

“She told you _that_?” He’s kind of whisper-shouting, like this is some top-secret information. Pat’s kind of impressed with how far he’s willing to take his nice-guy act.

“Yes, she did. Girls talk about that shit. Get used to it.”

“Okay, and – uh - that’s a problem for you because...?”

“Because Hayds used to swear I gave the best head, and I do not think it is feasible that a fucking hockey bro did a better job at giving a girl an orgasm than I did.”

There’s a moment where Toews doesn’t say anything, and then between one moment and the next he’s busting out laughing. He laughs so hard he tips the barstool back a bit and has to grab onto the bar to stabilize himself. Pat’s staring at him, completely dumbstruck. Once he settles himself down he looks at her and says, “God, I knew you were competitive but I really never would’ve guessed _this_.”

“This isn’t a _competitive_ thing, asshole,” Pat argues. “I just know male hockey players.”

“You _know_ male hockey players?”

“I played on boys teams through most of junior high and high school. It doesn’t take more than a couple seasons to realize that most of them are complete narcissists who think they can get a girl off by shoving their dick into her for fifteen seconds.”

Toews actually laughs aloud again at that. “Okay, I’ll give you that, but I’d clarify that that only applies to high school hockey guys. I think college hockey players should at least get a chance. If you’re into guys, that is.”

“Guys, yes. Hockey guys with no skills, no,” Pat answers.

“So,” Toews grins, leaning in just a little bit, “you’re saying that you’re not even a tiny bit curious? You don’t want to know if I’m good – if I’m better than you? You can walk away and not worry if Hayden was right?”

Pat takes a deep breath, orders two shots, and slams them both.

 

* * *

 

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Toews breathes into her neck. She’s in his lap and his hands are huge on her waist and she can’t deal with him saying shit like this right now.

“No talking, Toews,” Pat snaps back.

Toews leans back to look at her, eyebrows raised. “The deal was for me to show you how I am when I’m with a girl. When I’m with a girl I talk. Also, uh, typically the girl is calling me ‘Jonny,’ not ‘Toews.’ If you wouldn’t mind.”

Pat huffs, makes a big show of rolling her eyes before she says, “Fine.”

“Look, if you’re not actually into this then – “

But she _is_ into it, is the thing. She’s kind of distressingly into it, and she has been since Toews – _Jonny_ – pushed her up against the wall in his apartment and kissed her until her knees were weak. Now she’s in his lap on his bed, she’s down to just her bra and panties, and she’s so wet she’s kind of surprised he can’t _feel_ how into it she is.

She slaps a hand over his mouth to get him to shut up for two seconds and uses her free hand to grab his, moving it from her waist to the front of her panties.

Her hand is still over his mouth, but she can make out the muffled _fuck_ he lets out when he feels how wet she is, and in a second she’s being dumped onto her back, hands pinned at her sides as he kisses from her neck down to her chest. He lets go of her wrists to slide his hands under her back and undo her bra, almost overwhelmingly smooth. After her bra is gone he spends some time on her chest, kissing and biting around her breasts until she’s squirming in his grip.

“Jonny,” she groans, pushing her chest up into his mouth. She’s never really been into people playing with her nipples, but _God_ , she wants him there, already knows he’d make it good for her.

“Stay still, Pat. I’ve got you,” he says in response, and it’s not the condescending tone most guys use to talk to her in bed. It’s not an order. It’s him asking her to trust that he’ll make her feel good. And, God help her, she does.

His next kiss is right on her nipple, followed by a quick bite and a suck that has her arching into him, legs wrapping around his waist.

“Sensitive,” Jonny comments, kind of off-hand, under his breath. He’s grinning down at her as she brings her legs back down to the bed. She manages to control herself a little better when he moves to her other breast, just threading her hands through his hair and holding on for the ride. At some point she registers that she’s openly moaning, little open-mouth pants and whines that she’s fairly sure she’s never made just from someone playing with her tits. She’s not usually particularly loud in bed, never one to play up her sounds, but now she’s kind of concerned that Jonny’s neighbors are going to think he brought a porn star home.

Just when she’s thinking that she’ll explode if she doesn’t get some sort of relief, Jonny starts kissing down her stomach. He drags her panties off her legs as he lowers himself, settling in between her legs once they’re off.

“Fucking gorgeous,” Jonny groans, spreading her legs and pushing one up towards her chest, keeping his hand there on her inner thigh. His thumb is rubbing slow circles into her skin and he’s just _looking_ at her and it’s making her shiver all over.

She’s got one hand still in his hair and she uses it to try and tug him forward unsuccessfully. He laughs, though, and actually looks up and fucking _winks_ at her before he leans in and licks a long strip right over her. It makes her thighs shake.

He traces his tongue around her folds a few times, so slow and thorough it makes her feel hyper-sensitive. When he finally licks in she arches her back hard, free hand white-knuckling the sheets. She hears herself let out a whimper when he pulls back again, but then his lips are around her clit and his tongue is circling it and he has to use both hands and a considerable amount of force to keep her thighs from clamping down around his head. It makes it even hotter, though, the way he’s holding her there. She’ll probably have marks when he’s done, imprints where his fingers dug into her thighs.

Just when she’s almost there, he drops back down and licks in again. It’s good, but a different kind of good, and it pulls her back from the edge just a bit, lets her catch her breath. He doesn’t let her stay on even ground for long, though, and before she can think straight his mouth is back on her clit. He’s going harder this time, getting a little sloppy with it. She’s unbearably into it and he has to know it – has to feel the way she’s shaking, the way her hand grips at his hair, the way her whole body is vibrating with the need to come.

She finds herself begging him, “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop, Jonny _please_ ,” like a fucking mantra. Mercifully, he listens, slipping two fingers into her so she can clench down on them.

It feels like her orgasm is being pulled out of her, she comes so hard she has to close her eyes and throw her head back. When she finally checks back in she can hear her own pulse pounding in her ears and her toes are curled so hard she’s worried about getting a cramp in her calf. She tries to focus on relaxing but Jonny is still there, alternating between lightly running his tongue up and down where she’s soaked and turning his head to press kisses to her thighs. She should be coming down now but Jonny’s not letting her, and as soon as she looks down and makes eye contact with him he’s licking in again, firm and so fucking good.

He’s clearly not so worried with technique now that he’s made her come once, fucking his tongue in a way that says _eager_ more than anything. She’s into that, though, into how much he clearly loves this. His face is messy and she’s still shaking and her grip on his hair must hurt but he doesn’t stop fucking her with his tongue.

“ _Jonny_ ,” she whines.

“You can go again,” he says, a statement rather than a question. “God, Pat, you look so fucking hot coming on my mouth. Wanna keep you here forever, see how many orgasms I can lick out of you.”

She doesn’t respond – _can’t_ respond with the way he goes right back to her sensitive clit. She prematurely flinches, scared he’s going to go too hard, but he just blows air over it, soft as anything and improbably sexy. He’s gentle when he gets his tongue back on her, tracing around it until she feels like she’s gonna die if he doesn’t _do something_.

He reads her like a fucking book, pressing the flat of his tongue against her clit so she can grind her hips up into him. It sends sparks shooting down her spine, and she feels the pull in her lower stomach again. He lets her grind against his tongue until she’s letting out moans on every exhale, so close she can taste it, and then he’s pinning her hips to the bed and licking her hard until she’s screaming through a second orgasm. This one is just as hard but _longer_ , washing over her in waves that short out her brain and make her breath stutter in her chest. He gentles her through it but lets her come down from this one, softly letting her legs fall back down and moving up the bed, pressing kisses up her stomach and chest as he goes.

He’s fucking filthy, has to use his thumb to wipe his chin off and keeps eye contact with her as he sucks that thumb into his mouth. It makes her _ache_.

She doesn’t make the decision to say, “You have to fuck me,” but it happens. He stares at her, wide-eyed and frozen for the first time since they started this.

“You don’t have to if – “ he starts, but she slaps a hand over his mouth again.

“Fuck me, Jonny. I wouldn’t be telling you to if I didn’t want it.”

She drops her hand from his mouth as he reaches over to rummage through his bedside table for a condom. He finds one and drops it on her stomach while he strips out of his boxers, and _fuck_ his dick looks fucking perfect because of course it does.

He reaches for the condom but she slaps his hand away, opening it herself and leaning up to put it on him. He groans low in his throat when she gives him a few testing strokes with her hand.

She gets a hand around his neck to pull him down on top of her, throwing a leg around his hip because it’s better for her like that. He bites down on her neck as he pushes in, one smooth stroke until his hips are pressed completely against hers.

“Holy fuck,” he breathes into her skin, grinding in deep for a moment.

“You can go hard, I can take it,” she says, and the way his breath punches out of him at that is so fucking satisfying. He gets her back, though, pulling out and thrusting in hard and deep and so good she can’t help but moan.

“Know you can take it, baby,” he practically growls into her neck, keeping his thrusts steady, still getting her so good. “You’re so fucking sexy. Wanna do everything with you. Next time you’re gonna sit on my face. I’ll make you come until you can’t hold yourself up anymore, and then I’ll put you on your back and fuck you ‘til you’re screaming. You want that?”

She’d say yes to anything right now, but she’s not lying when she says, “Yes, Jonny, _fuck_ , I want all of that.”

His thrusts are getting sloppy now, but he maneuvers a hand in between them to thumb at her clit. She’s still so sensitive and he’s fucking her just right, it doesn’t take much for her to be coming on his dick. Jonny must’ve been holding off for her, because then he’s pumping in hard one last time and shaking over her, forehead dropped down onto her shoulder.

They breathe there together for an extended moment, his chest so close Pat can feel that their heartrates have synced. She bites her lip against a whine when he pulls out and rolls over, but after he discards the condom he’s getting back in her space and pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips.

“So? Where do I rank?” he asks, nosing across her cheekbone. He’s got a cocky little smile on his lips, and Pat already knows he’s gonna be a fucking handful.

“You rank as: you can take me out for dinner,” she responds.

“Well that’s even better than I’d hoped,” he grins, leaning back in for a kiss.


End file.
